After checking out the dismal picks on J DATE with my darling, divorced friend, I decided to take matters into my own hands. It was a date with me to snag a date for her. The venue would be Bandera where singles are three deep around the bar. Meat market- sure, in a casual west side kind of way! She was down and I agreed to be her wingman. (It is easier to be a wingman if you are married and going home to the husband.) Here is HER re-cap of the night.
Finding Mr. Right
Look tiger Hot
White Hudson jeans, Cream Manolas, Helmut Lang top ,Hair up.
We have a goal. Get me out. Meet people. Find Mr. Right.
Miss Lemonaid said I nailed the look but hair stays down until you’ve nailed them. It can go up for morning after coffee.
She finds us a spot at the bar. Central to every one. By the time my ass hits the bar stool, she has a guy at the end of the bar for me.
Walk to the bathroom. Smile. Come back.
By the time I get back to my bar stool, I have had two drink offers, a short dance and a high five.
Wow that was easy! My confidence was up. Amazing what a smile can do!
A glass of wine and and an appetizer of grilled artichoke later, we have 2 more propositions.
One may have had a girlfriend and openly discussed his daily HGH and testosterone regime while the other was a “pro golfer” who at 50 still lives with a roommate… Definitely not Mr. Rights but flattering to my ego nonetheless.
Miss Lemonaid, will you be my life coach? Are you available every Thursday night? Can you start shopping for me as well?














